Mourning
by Kerink
Summary: A JTHM oneshot. Hints at NnyEdgar. Lots of doughboys, oh joy!


**Keri:** Ho snapz! A JTHM one-shot! I love Nny/Edgar so go bitch about how Edgar's dead somewhere else! PS: This slurpie is so delicious but is making me sick. If you're ever at 7-11 or wherever slurpies are sold, get the berry-pomegranate. It's so good. Oh, and this fic is written BEFORE Nny died. Kaytks.

**Warnings:** None. I haven't written anything bad in awhile. Oh! There might be cussing. And maybe death. But not really. I dunno, we'll wait and see.

**Disclaimers: **All owned by the Vasquez.

- - - -

"Ah how lovely, Johnny my boy. Another cloudless night. You can see the stars so well. You should enjoy this time. Bask in the glow of the moon. Make some Skettios!" Eff was more than happy to see that Johnny did not plan to die anytime soon. He had to be careful. So very careful. The purple and white styrofoam "baker" approached the skinny man slowly, before taking a seat next to him and his die-ary. And how perfect: D-Boy was nowhere in sight.

The blue haired man placed the eraser of his pencil on his lips. "You don't say, Mr. Fuck. I do guess this is a nice night…" he paused for what seemed like ever before, "I didn't go shopping," he had gotten used to Eff moving around by now. But Psycho-Doughboy never seemed to. He had barley said anything since the tazer incident.

"Hmm, well, I do see how that could be a problem," Eff seemed to think. He leaned back on his stubby arms, scratching his chin which made an irritating noise. "I'm sure young Todd would let you borrow a can."

"I like Squee better," he said thoughtfully. Continuing to write their conversation down in his die-ary.

Despite having no lungs, Eff sighed heavily. "The point is – Nny – that you should enjoy yourself. It's not two yet, go get a slurpie, go down to the club! Smile Johnny, smile! There is so much you could do on a night like this! Go run a bulldozer into the high-school football team! I think they're playing tonight," when he got no response from Johnny, he continued. "I've told you before, Nny, why waste your existence mimicking the dead?!" He waved his nubs for emphasis.

"I'm in no mood, Eff. Can't you and D-Boy fight over who has the better paintjob again?" He placed his pencil inside the book, closing it and placing it on his desk. Looking at Eff in the shattered mirror.

"That fucking piece of styrofoam dare say his is better than mine?!" He said hotly. "He doesn't even have color! His paint is as bleak as his outlook on life! In fact, I think I'll go kick him," and with his mission to keep Johnny alive forgotten, Mr. Fuck ran out of the room to go kick his rival.

Nny sighed and sat on the floor, pulling his skin-and-bones legs up to his chest. He felt something press harshly against his hip. He unfolded and reached into his pocket, pulling out a pair of glasses. The lenses were gone, but the shape remained somewhat in tact.

The only thing Nny had left of the only person – it seemed – that didn't deserve to die.

He placed the glasses on his face, huddling up again. It was the only proof he had that Edgar Vargas hadn't been a dream. A nice person whom had seemingly understood him. It had been a strange encounter, but one he had tried not to forget. And as long as he had the glasses, he couldn't.

Eff had been more than pleased to find out the Johnny had found someone who wasn't all bad. Proof that there were good people and even more reason for him to stay alive. That he should try to find these good people; but, of course, he should keep in mind that he still had to paint the wall. And not to forget his only chore.

He leaned his head on the wall, looking up through the wood nailed to the windows. He could indeed see many stars as well as a bright, full moon. Such a lovely night. He closed his eyes; he was beginning to feel quit depressed about the whole situation.

Maybe he should get a slurpie.

He opened his eyes as Eff and D-Boy came into the room, shoving and yelling at each other.

"Nny! Nny make him stop shoving me!" D-Boy shoved Eff and kicked him as well.

"You shoved me first!" Eff shoved him back and kicked him twice.

"You kicked me and said I was stupid!" shove, shove, kick.

"You ARE stupid, as well as ugly!" shove, kick, shove, shove.

Johnny's fists balled. How juvenile the two could be sometimes. "SHUT UP! FFFUCK JUST SHUT UP!" He re-curled into a ball. He already had a headache.

They did stop. Psycho-Doughboy scowled at him. "I thought I told you to get rid of those stupid glasses! They're too small for you anyways. Besides, if you miss him so much, you should kill yourself and go see him."

Mr. Fuck gaped before shoving D-Boy out of the way. "Now, now Johnny, as your friend had said: A heaven for him and a hell for you. You would never see him again anyways. Besides, D-Boy, if our boy wants to be happy, we should let him. Who are we to judge?! So come, Nny, let's go dancing and slit the bouncer's throat! That always cheers you up!"

"Nonsense! No happiness for you Nny! You deserve no such thing! You have hurt too many to be happy! Even if you were allowed happiness, you ruin it! You always ruin it! You ruined it with everyone: the cashier at the 24.7, Devi, and Edgar! Even if you could see him, do you really think he'd want to be around the man who KILLED him, huh?!"

Johnny continued to stare at the floor. After awhile he took the glasses off. Placing them back in his pocket as he stood. He looked at Eff, than D-Boy, then back again. He began walking out the door to the living room. "I'm going to go to the mall."

- - - -

**Keri:** A free one-shot of some sorts to anyone who can tell me what Nny's gonna do next. Some restrictions may apply.


End file.
